Thursday, September 30, 2010

I've been up for a couple of hours, and I am still completely ecstatic about this. Henry slept from about 7 p.m. until 6 a.m. last night.

BOOYA!

He did fuss a tiny bit (which, I didn't wake up enough to be concerned, and I wake up at EVERY noise he makes), but he always managed to get himself back to sleep peacefully.

Having a decent night of sleep after not having one for so long has been glorious so far (you know, two hours into it). Both kids are in great moods. I'm in a great mood. I could do a cartwheel right here. I won't, though. I don't want to ruin it by breaking stuff . . . or pulling something.

WIN!

He's still a bit snotty/sickly. None of us have joined him with it yet (I'm actually still trying to rid myself of the previous cold that I had), and I'm hopeful that we won't. I'm also hopeful that he'll get over this one pretty quickly since he got some sleep last night.

I think maybe he's been a demon-child for about two weeks because he's been feeling sick that whole time. It's so sad: I had no idea that he was sick until the snot arrived. I just thought he was possessed. Now, he's ridiculously charming and happy. I knew something wasn't right.

Thank God that "demon child" is not his normal disposition. I was starting to think it could be for about a week or two.

RELIEF!

Gotta get a little girl ready for school. (By the way, she is still the only kid there that has yet to cry. I don't know how I got so lucky with that, but I'll take it!)

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

. . . to almost not do "Hey, It's Okay Tuesday" because you feel that you've over saturated the internet with your posts for the day. It's called Internetiquette, people. Here. Read this. (Yes. I know that girl. I'm proud.)

. . . to not know how to feel about the fact that your kid is the only kid that hasn't cried in preschool yet. (I think it's a good thing? I'd feel pretty bad if she cried while she was at school. So, I suppose I should take it and run with it.)

. . . to misspell the world "pus" on a photo of your nephew's toe on Facebook and want to change your identity.

. . . to be really, really grateful that "ahold" is a word since you've been using it your whole life. (It is, people. I double-checked.)

. . . to throw down a serious, whole-family, dance party every time your kid walks across the room. (He's getting better at it every day!)

. . . to never run fast enough to stop your kid from splashing in the toilet. Nobody will ever be able to run fast enough. Not now. (And, yes. I do try to keep the door closed, but sometimes Nora opens it without my knowledge.)

. . . to hate yourself a little bit for not getting all four wisdom teeth extracted while you were in there for the top two . . . the two, separate times you were in there for those (pre-kids). (I have to get the bottom ones removed, now. Stupid, stupid, stupid.)

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

Be sure to really cherish and enjoy the following activities while you can:

sleeping past 6:30 a.m.

sleeping in general

waking up leisurely and when you want to

sitting down to eat breakfast/lunch/dinner

showering

going to the bathroom

grocery shopping

typing an email

talking on the phone

Once you have kids, you will do none of these things alone, unhindered, and uninterrupted for a very, very long time (unless your kids sleep or unless someone watches them for you at some point).

Some people will see this list above and think we (Willis and I) were nuts for having kids as early as we did (I was 26 when Nora was born, I think, and we had been married for two years). I think we were brilliant. (Why, yes. Yes I am tooting my own horn.) Here's why:

We didn't get a chance to realize what we were going to be missing once we started having kids (this is why we didn't even bother "having nice things" to start).

We will still be pretty young and feisty when our kids graduate high school (and even college, hopefully).

We will, as a result, most likely get to know our grandkids and know them for a long time (if things go well).

We will be able to afford to do the fun things that we wished we could have done when we first got married, and we might be able to do some of those fun things with our grown family.

We can actually foresee (for the most part) when it will be "just us" in our house again. Not only can we plan for that, but we can look forward to it.

We knew we wanted kids. We also knew that if we got a chance to settle in without them, we'd probably never have them.

With all that said, I know that there are valid, good reasons to not have children until later (not being married, for example, or pursuing careers, etc.). I'm just letting you know that it isn't us that deserves your pity. Save that for yourself. You're going to need it, my friends.

Tuesday, September 14, 2010

. . . to wonder if everything we (my husband and I) own has a five to six-year operation life. (Everything and its MOTHER is breaking around here, and it isn't even kid-related breakage.)

. . . to be sick of being sick for the SECOND time this summer with some sort of nasty cold plague.

. . . to not care if people hear you hacking up a lung like an old man through open windows (in the car or the house—it doesn't matter).

. . . to not have yet washed the outfit that your daughter puked in back on Friday (she had a sinus-drainage, mini-puke incident in the car).

. . . to stick it out through a cold shower for fear that if you get out, the water heater will really be at the end of its life, and you will not get back in the shower again. (And, by golly, you really need a shower.) (It turns out that was a good judgment call, by the way.)

. . . to be insanely ecstatic that you were actually able to get that stupid cat into the cat taxi—and scratch-free.

. . . to put faith in people. Sometimes.

. . . to not understand what the crap is so fascinating about the toilet. (Henry will NOT stop getting into it at EVERY possible opportunity.)

. . . if you're just now watching Season 6 of House on Netflix.

. . . if there's still a cat or newborn baby-sized hole in the floor of your basement covered with a box of 40 pounds of floor tile.

Wednesday, September 8, 2010

Over Labor Day weekend, we decided we should probably address the porch area next to the stairs. We were getting concerned that if the weather were to wear on that area for another winter, our mail man might fall through the porch. That would not be good.

Here's the only "before" photo that I took, and I took this back in the spring. Believe it or not, that step looked worse just before we addressed it.

We went to Lowe's and got two pieces of lumber for less than six bucks (and had them cut), and we put those in front of the old piece (we ripped off the white piece that was a weird, jointed piece—the lip, and we also ripped off the quarter-round that rested on the top concrete step). We also shot some foam in there under the rotted stuff (to help support the wood). (We have no skills for replacing individual boards.)

Then, we used some wood putty on the deep gouges (I ripped out some of the rotted stuff), caulked all the cracks, and painted. You can see that we, obviously, need to paint the rest of the porch (and house), but this needed to happen . . . and now. One project at a time, folks.

This will most likely only be a temporary fix. We'll probably have to replace all of the wood on the porch at some point in the next few years. It's not pretty under that paint. Not at all.

An old house is a money pit! We did this project for under 20 bucks, I'd say (we had paint, caulk, and deck screws from prior projects, so the only thing we really had to go buy was the two pieces of lumber and the foam).

Soon, I plan to schluff off the black paint and rust on the hand rails and repaint those.

Yesterday, I watched a smug, little chipmunk come out and run back into the siding beneath our bay window. There's not much in this world that is more maddening than that.

Tuesday, September 7, 2010

This morning, I took my little girl to preschool for the first time.Here are some photos from our morning.

Nora might have been a bit nervous before we left.Haha! I just realized there was a toy juxtaposition that I missedthat's bombing this photo. Can you find it?(I've started an album on FB called "Nora's Juxtapositions"that involve all of her weird, silly toy and other random item pairings.

Here she is wearing her backpack that shegot from Uncle Jerm and Aunt Marlene.

This was how Henry looked when it was "go time."

Nora's by the back door, ready to go (playing with her kitty and penguin).

"Okay. Let's go."

"Come on, Mom!"

Sitting in the "circle" in class. (She has on sticker earrings, by the way.)

She was the first in line to go play in the gym.

Here she is wondering why nobody else is getting in line with her.

We're waiting for a bit to inside to get Nora, here. (We were a bit early.)

He wasn't into a second photo. Obviously.

I think she liked it. I can't really tell. Ha!

Believe it or not, I didn't cry! I was sure I would. I think I got so overwhelmed with watching some of the other kids really freak out when their mothers were leaving. I got caught up in watching their strife, and then, seeing the anxiety on all the mothers' faces (Nora kept saying, "Mommy, that baby is saaad"). I somehow missed my sad moment. I guess, maybe, part of me was relieved that my kid wasn't screaming and crying. While it saddens me a little that she's so independent (moms like to be needed), I was glad that she was able to take this stressful situation and shrug it off so easily. It made me happy and so proud! I was so glad to see her at the end of class, though! She even gave Henry a hug when she came out. It was so stinkin' sweet.

And now, she's taking a pretty serious nap. She was nearly too tired to talk about her experience! I hope to get some more information out of her when she wakes up this afternoon.

In other news, Henry had his one-year checkup at the doctor today. He clocked in at 21 pounds, 6 ounces, and 30 inches in height.